


heartbeat

by ornategrip



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ornategrip/pseuds/ornategrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe didn't want a pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt on the grimm kink meme: http://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/1735.html?thread=179655#cmt179655

There was a reason Monroe was solitary, a reason he hadn’t wanted Hap to stay at his house (and wasn’t that still an aching punch in his gut, shame and rage all tangled together), a reason he didn’t want to help Nick. Because that whole lone wolf thing? Was a load of crock. Wolves were made to be pack animals, made to belong, they were born social creatures and they died social creatures. Their heartbeats were tied to each other, lulled them to sleep, was the first thing they heard upon waking.

He hadn’t been lying to Nick when he said bad things happened when they got into packs. Instincts started raging, heartbeats started pounding, the wolf wanting to take over.

Monroe didn’t want a pack.

He wanted his strict regimen, he wanted his clocks, he wanted his quiet solitary life. Was it lonely? Sure, of course, he grew up surrounded by family, had run in one pack or another his whole life. But what was the alternative? Angelina reminded him why a little loneliness was better. Running wild left Hap bleeding to death on the floor, his heartbeat stopped forever, and Angelina out there somewhere, a bullet in her back, her heartbeat forever a crooked thing to Monroe’s ear.

The last pack he had ever been in: they were all dead or scattered.

So, no thank you. Monroe didn’t need to go through that again. His own solitary heartbeat was enough to keep him company.

But Nick, that idiot, he never did listen to Monroe even as he claimed he came over for advice. Sometimes Monroe felt he could just say random words to Nick and Nick would nod along and go do whatever the hell stupid thing he was planning for the day.

It was like Nick had a death wish.

And Monroe, he wasn’t a good guy, he’d done bad things and had to live with the fact that he’d probably do them again next time he fell off the wagon. But when it came to Nick, he couldn’t be a _bad_ guy either and when his options were ‘help fledging Grimm’ or ‘let fledging Grimm go traipsing blindly into his death’, well.

It wasn’t really a choice.

But Nick wasn’t pack. He was a Grimm for god’s sake, part of the line that killed his grandfather. He _wasn’t_ pack. He was just an idiot Monroe had picked up because, hey, he had to pay for his sins somehow.

And if Monroe got used to his scent, leather and gunpowder, ink and paper, that was because Nick kept coming over uninvited. Monroe wasn’t actively seeking his companionship, the bastard just wouldn’t leave him alone. It wasn’t Monroe’s fault. It was Nick’s.

Nick who never seemed unsure of his welcome, who would just come blustering in like Monroe wasn’t a big bad wolf. Nick who trusted him, even after what went down with Angelina. Nick who never smelled like fear or nervousness, who was never skittish whenever Monroe came too close.

Monroe had lived in solitary out of necessity, his one lonely heartbeat drumming against the silence. He stayed alone because it was safer, for everybody, including himself.

So he decided Nick was a cheat, a way around the danger. He was a friend who could never be pack, someone to break the loneliness just a little, a little bit of friendliness in an otherwise empty social life.

He actually felt pretty damn clever about it. In all of creature history, had a Blutbad ever befriended a Grimm? He was making history here, even if nobody ever knew about it. God knows he wasn’t about to tell his parents about this and could only hope Angelina would keep her mouth shut. With her, it was hard to tell.

So there Monroe was, feeling good about himself, patting his own back, gloating, if you will, about how he had snuck a fast one past the wolf. He should have known better; nothing in Monroe’s life ever worked out the way he planned. Most of his clocks? Looked nothing like the image he had in his head. It was like once he decided on a plan, he went about doing the complete opposite without even realizing it.

He wasn’t even supposed to see Nick this weekend. Had put his foot down because Nick had been dragging him out for one reason or another for the past four days. No, Monroe was going to go out drinking, going to mingle, maybe get laid, if he was very, very lucky.

He drove downtown, picked a bar at random and walked in, completely oblivious that through sheer dumb luck Nick was inside. He was just moving to a bar stool when his feet swiveled without his consent, his steps turning him right and deeper into the building. Nick sat at a table, talking and laughing with a man Monroe vaguely recognized as his partner.

The flutter of pleasure he felt in his chest from seeing Nick was totally overwhelmed by Monroe’s complete and utter shock.

Because he hadn’t smelled Nick, he had _heard_ him, heard his heartbeat and followed it unknowingly. And now it continued to beat in his head, a steady drumbeat that he was slowly realizing had been in the back of mind the entire time.

How long had he been tracking Nick like this?

Long enough that the sound was familiar, comforting, known. He knew this sound. He listened to it in his house as Nick puttered about and drank all his beer. He listened to it when he drove Nick around on their Grimm-themed escapades. He listened to it now, staring at Nick from across the room, heartbeat so loud in his ears it was like they were standing next to each other.

 _Nick was pack._

He was about to run, to turn around and flee when Nick spotted him, brightening, one hand coming up to wave. Then his friend was turning around to see who Nick was waving at and Monroe had no choice but to move forward, Nick’s heartbeat like a siren in his ears.

He probably came off like a weirdo to Nick’s partner (Henry? Hank? Something like that) but he couldn’t help it. Nick’s heartbeat was drowning out everything else, was making it hard to think. Monroe had heard it now, had recognized it. It was part of him, Nick’s heartbeat, thrumming in his blood like a lyrical accompaniment.

Maybe they were there for minutes, maybe hours. Monroe had no clue, only snapped out of his daze when Nick stood.

“It’s okay, Hank. Monroe can give me a ride, right?”

Monroe blinked when Nick turned big concerned eyes his way and nodded dumbly even as he stood. He made some sort of goodbye to Nick’s partner, trailed after Nick like a puppy as they left. That heartbeat had him like a dog on a leash.

As soon as they were out of the bar and away from the crowd, Nick grabbed his arm, dragged him into an alcove between two buildings. It was quiet here, the sound of drinking and partying feeling so far away, Nick’s heart steady and strong.

“What’s wrong, Monroe? Are you okay? You’re acting strange.”

Monroe wanted to laugh at that, but didn’t, knowing it would come out hysterical. How the hell did he explain this to Nick when even he didn’t know what the hell had happened? He shook his head, more to himself than to Nick but Nick frowned at him anyway.

“Monroe, talk to me.”

He couldn’t help it, had to crowd Nick against the wall, had to press his hand over Nick’s heart.

“I can hear it.” To his own ears, he sounded wrecked and awestruck. “I can hear your heart.”

Nick blinked up at him, mouth shaping into a little ‘o’.

“Its familiar to me.” Monroe went on because when he went to dig his own grave, he didn’t do it by halves. “I’ve been listening to it this whole time and I never even knew. I thought I was safe, with you a Grimm. I never thought you could be pack.”

The longing crammed into that last word would have shamed Monroe, would have made him pull away and flee if Nick hadn’t chosen that moment to cover Monroe’s hand with his own.

“Am I?” he asked, voice a little shaky. “Am I pack?”

His heartbeat sped up and Monroe’s followed, the sounds of their hearts chasing each other, there in the dark of two buildings.

“Yes.” Monroe breathed. “Yes.”

And then he kissed Nick, or maybe Nick kissed him, it didn’t matter because their hearts were on the same rhythm now, following the same beat.


End file.
